The Difference between Being Alive and Living
by Diosa2
Summary: Ron Weasley is leading an empty life, someone fills it.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Difference between Being Alive and Living

**Author:** Diosa

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all that is affiliated with it is in no way associated with me, I'm just playing with the characters.

**Summary:** Ron Weasley is leading an empty life, someone fills it.

**Pairing:** Ron/Draco

**A/N:** I started writing this more than two years ago, and quite forgot about it. Recently I was flipping through my notebook and found it so I figured I might as well finish it. This is completely unbeta'd.

x X x

Ron Weasley was lonely. Yes, he had friends and family, but at the end of the day, when he got home from the Ministry job he hated, but paid well and walked into his large flat that was tastefully decorated but had no personality, he always felt the hard truth. He was alone. And somehow, no matter how hard he tried he could not shake the loneliness he felt. It was a constant, horrible feeling.

He Apparated in the aforementioned flat after a not-so-hard day of work and collapsed into his attractive, but not very comfortable armchair; Hermione had picked it out, she said it went with the 'décor.' That was five years ago… he had been meaning to replace it for four years, but simply could not be bothered. It was not as if any one else was really going to sit in it.

He glanced at a picture of her on the mantle; she was married now. She even had two children. He was godfather to the first and Harry godfather to the second. Harry got married too… to the daughter of the owner of the Quidditch team he played for. But that was three years ago. He was coaching now. It was the respectable thing to do after being injured. Ron's eyes trailed to a picture of the three of them on Harry's last birthday. They were all thirty now – Hermione was rapidly approaching thirty-one – and he could not help but think he was too young to be so despondent.

'Time to find some company for the night…' he mumbled to himself.

No one knew of this particular habit of his; it was not something you told the world about, but when he was feeling especially forlorn, he would drive over (yes drive, he enjoyed many things Muggle nowadays) to the shady part of London that was perpetuated by male prostitutes; Muggles. He rarely slept with them, preferring instead for them to lie close to him in his satin covered king size bed. Yes satin, a horrible cliché, but what was a queer bloke to do. They felt damn good. Sometimes he talked with them, but mostly he just wanted to feel a warm body next to his. It was sad really; pathetic in fact, but that was his life.

He threw off his robe and put on a pair of jeans and a black jumper before grabbing his keys and leaving. He bought the car because he wanted to and could afford it. Thirty minutes later he was coasting slowly through the area, looking for any possibilities. He saw something glint in a corner. Blond hair it looked like. At first he thought it was a dog, but something about the colour tugged at his mind. He stopped the car, intending to investigate. His curiosity was piqued.

'What's your pleasure love?' asked a trannie, probably no more than twenty years old, as he stepped out of his car.

'Not tonight,' he muttered distractedly. He walked to the blond creature cautiously. It was a man. The person turned at the sound of Ron's heavy footsteps upon the pavement.

'Shit! Malfoy, is that you?'

Draco Malfoy looked at him in stunned silence. Or perhaps he could not speak. He looked horrible; his platinum hair was dirty and matted, his clothes were fit for rags and he was emaciated.

'Malfoy? Can you hear me? Draco?'

'Go away,' he said in a raspy voice. He coughed violently, and Ron nervously waited for it to subside.

'What are you doing here?'

'I'm having a fucking tea party,' he replied viciously.

'Do – do you live here?'

Draco stared at him with a piercing gaze. His cold grey eyes were the only part of him that Ron really recognised. 'Sort of,' he said after a prolonged silence. 'I wander around a lot.'

Ron nodded, not knowing what to say. Many thought he had been a Death Eater, but after the war the Ministry did not have enough evidence to formally charge him. His father however, had been successfully charged and imprisoned. He was dead now. With the stain of Dark Wizard on his name, investors pulled out of Malfoy businesses, people refused to work for him and in an amazingly short space of time Draco Malfoy became virtually penniless. Apparently he was not as rich as he had always let on. Lucius Malfoy had destroyed the family finances some time ago. His mother committed suicide and no one had seen of heard of him since her funeral.

Ron felt a surge of compassion. A lot had changed. 'Come with me.'

'And be your fuck-toy? I'd rather not.'

'Why would you even think that?'

'This is hustler territory Weasley. People don't come here for moonlight strolls.'

'I'm not trying to make you my sex slave Malfoy. You're ill. You can't stay here.'

'Since when do you care?' he asked bitterly, wheezing loudly.

'Since now… come on Malfoy, I have a nice flat and it's warm. You can eat something and clean up.' He did not think he needed to mention that he could probably hang clothes on his collar bone, nor that he could smell him where he stood.

Draco looked at him searchingly before finally speaking. 'No tricks?'

'None whatsoever.'

'I haven't done anything to ever deserve kindness from you.'

'I know, but I'm offering it anyway.'

The former Slytherin glanced around, as if balancing his options. 'All right, I'll come.'

The drive was silent and heavy with unspoken questions. Eventually Ron ushered him inside.

'You live well Weasley.' He surveyed the posh flat with jealous eyes. The spacious living room was done in earth tones while there was a large professional looking kitchen and a long hall with several doors on each side.

'Living's cheap when you're single.'

'Where do those lead?' asked Malfoy, motioning to the closed doors.

'Bathroom, office, spare bedroom, cupboard and the master bedroom's at the end of the hall.'

Draco nodded vaguely, 'may I…?'

'Go ahead. I'll – er – get you some clothes.' Ron fought the urge to call Hermione. He wanted to talk to her, didn't want to wake her family or have to explain how he had found Malfoy. He found some clothes he rarely wore; a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that was slightly too small and laid them out in the spare room. They would be too big, but at least they were clean and comfortable. He warmed up some food as well, but judging from Malfoy's size he had not eaten anything substantial in more than a few days, possibly weeks, so he made some milkshakes as well. He would have to go back on food gradually.

Malfoy emerged from the bathroom, clad in Ron's soft bathrobe looking more like himself. His hair was long and straggly and would need to cut.

'I've put some clothes in the spare room for you.'

'Thank you.' He disappeared into the room and came out a few minutes later. The clothes hung on him pitifully, making him look more skeletal than ever.

'Your spare room only has some boxes in it.'

'I know… I've been meaning to fix it up. I can transfigure some blankets into decent bedding. Malfoy – when was the last time you ate something?'

It took him a moment to answer. 'Last week I think. I black out sometimes. I don't know for how long.'

'_Shit_, Malfoy. Here, drink this.'

He took the milkshake without complaint, and that said a lot. He took a long drink, and then coughed, bringing some back up.

'Sip it slowly, there'll be more when you're done.'

Draco nodded, sipped a little, looking around again. 'Do you live like a Muggle?'

'Practically, but I work for the Ministry.'

'What department?'

'Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I don't do field work though. I'm not an Auror or MLE if you're wondering, just a well paid paper pusher.'

'I take it you don't like your work?'

'Not in the slightest.'

He laughed shortly, then took a long rattling breath.

'What happened to you Malfoy?'

'I sold my soul to the devil and now I'm reaping the rewards.'

'Seriously, I want to know.'

'You and everyone else.'

'Were you a Death Eater?'

He sipped some more of his drink before answering. 'Not officially, but I supported the cause, and now I'm paying for it.'

'What happened after you lost your money?'

He pursed his lips together in annoyance, but still responded. 'I had no friends, the bank wouldn't help me – my wand was confiscated – '

'What! They can only take your wand if you've been charged and convicted of a serious offence!'

'I was charged – with fraud.'

'Fraud? How did they manage that?'

'I authorised payments after I was bankrupt, something no one bothered inform me of.'

'Then why didn't they lock you up?'

'They felt the loss of my money and magic was punishment enough… the bastards. I would have been better of rotting in Azkaban.' That spoke volumes about whatever he had experienced while out of the Wizarding World.

Ron began to understand. The Ministry wanted him to suffer and they found a way to make him do so. He got a raw deal, not even Malfoy, the nemesis of his youth, deserved to be starving on the street, living like a vagrant. Some might find it fitting that the once proud Draco of the old and prominent Malfoy line had fallen, but he found it sad.

'How did you survive with nothing? Not even magic?'

Draco's response was a short, brittle laugh; he then coughed so hard that his undersized frame shook alarmingly.

'You're really sick.'

'Really Weasley? I hadn't noticed.'

'I'm taking you to see a Healer tomorrow – actually a muggle doctor might be better.'

'Who says I'll be here tomorrow?' Ron did not answer him. They both knew he would not leave. He had nowhere to go.

'Continue your story.'

'Eager to hear the sordid details?' He sighed heavily. 'Very well, after my mother's death, when it became really apparent to me that I had nowhere to turn and no one would hire me, I left the our world. I was disgraced without my wand anyway, and it was beyond obvious that the Ministry would have exiled me if they could,' he broke off and coughed some more, wheezing for a few moments before he was able to speak again. His cough made Ron uneasy.

'I had no skills and knew next to nothing of Muggle culture, so I did the only thing I could.' His expression grew dark and Ron had a feeling he knew exactly how he had survived.

'You sold yourself.' It was a statement not a question.

'You say it like it's dirty,' he said scathingly. 'You think I wanted to sell my body? You think I liked it? Being touched, _abused_… my beautiful –' he broke off and for a minute Ron thought Malfoy might actually cry. ' - my once beautiful body,' he finished in a hard voice. 'But after a few weeks in and out of shelters I realised I needed to make some money so… ' His face was drawn and pale. 'I'm tired,' he finally said, and he more than looked it.

'You can sleep in my room. I'll take the spare.'

'You'd let me have your bed?'

'Sometimes a person really needs a good night's sleep in a comfy bed.'

'Thank you Weas – Ron. I don't deserve your help.'

That really surprised him. Draco, yes Draco now, was a changed man. Apparently living on the streets had taught him something: gratitude. It was a shame what he had to go through to learn it though.

Ron watched Draco get into his bed from the doorway, and saw with some pain, the look of ecstasy that flitted across his face as he slipped between the sheets.

'Thank you Ron,' he said in a small voice.

'You're welcome… Draco.'


	2. Chapter 2

My usage and description of TB in this may not be completely correct, but bear with me. I need it to be like this for the purpose of my story.

x

x X x

x

The next day Ron called in sick to work so he could take Draco to a walk in clinic.

'Morning,' said Ron when Draco came out of his bedroom. 'I figured you could have something a little more so I made porridge.'

Draco made a face, but accepted it without complaint.

'Are you sure you don't want to see a Healer? Muggles are great and all, but I can't get used to their doctors. Hermione's a Healer you know. She has her own practice and would be very discreet. She'd probably even come here if I asked.'

'I'd rather die on the street,' said Draco coldly.

'Why? She's not good enough for you? Don't you think it time to give up your "Pureblood" notions?'

Draco turned away stiffly, and in a very tight voice said, 'I don't want her to see me like this.'

Then Ron understood. Underneath it all, Draco Malfoy still had his pride. He put aside a lot of it to accept Ron's offer, but perhaps if it took another blow, he would break.

'All right, to a walk in clinic we go. Okay?'

'That's fine.'

Ron got him some more clothes, then shrunk them slightly to fit better. The car ride was silent for the first few minutes, until Draco started talking.

'Why were you looking for a prostitute?' he asked suddenly.

Ron glanced at him quickly. 'What makes you think I was looking for that?'

'Spare me, you may have been taken aback when I said I wouldn't be your fuck toy, but that doesn't mean you weren't looking for one.'

Ron did not really want to explain, especially to Draco, but denying it was fruitless. 'I was lonely,' he finally answered softly.

'Surely you could find someone easily if you wanted.'

'Is that a compliment?' Draco did not respond. 'I was never very good with relationships, I'm pants at them in fact,' offered Ron, by way of explanation.

'That's rubbish. You probably didn't try.'

'Don't assume anything about me Malfoy.'

'Same here.'

The silence resumed, but with it a palpable tension. Ron was relieved when they finally got to the clinic. He got a form from the front desk and sat in the waiting room with Draco.

'Do you want me to fill this out for you?'

Draco nodded his acquiescence.

'All right, name – Draco Mal -'

'Charles Bingley.'

'Okay… was that your name when… ?'

'Yes.'

Ron did not comment, but continued to fill out the form, and with sustained help from Draco, completed it. They sat without speaking for some time; the only noise was Draco's occasional hacking cough.

'Charles Bingley!' called a nurse.

Draco stood up, then paused. He looked at Ron hesitantly.

'Do you want me to come with you?' Draco nodded and Ron got up to follow him into the examination room.

The doctor was a petite, middle aged, friendly looking woman of East Indian descent.

'Good morning gentlemen! Now, which on of you lovely boys is Mr Bingley?' she asked eyeing Draco.

'I am.'

'I'm Dr. Seepersaad. Now what seems to be the problem besides the fact that you are alarmingly undernourished?'

Draco explained to her about his coughing, wheezing, and reluctantly told her about his poor eating habits of the last few weeks, which had left him thinner than a rail.

She examined him and found that he had contracted tuberculosis and on top of that, bronchitis. While very serious, it was treatable. She recommended he check himself into a hospital for immediate treatment as TB could be highly contagious. Nonetheless, she prescribed some antibiotics, as well as vitamins and nutritious shakes that would help him gain some weight. She also told him to stay in bed for the next two weeks. She explained to him that if he had been left untreated for much longer the infection would have killed him. At Ron's behest, she also took a blood test; she would call them with the results.

'I'm not going to a hospital,' said Draco upon exiting the clinic.

'Draco, don't be daft. TB is very serious, she told you, you could have died.'

'Then get me the prescription and I'll be on my way, I don't want to get you sick.'

'I won't get sick. Hermione created a vaccine for that. In fact she's working on linking Muggle and magic medicines so we can each benefit from the other's findings. I'll get you the prescription and you can stay with me. I'll cast a prevention charm on you to stop you from spreading it. Once you're back on your feet I can help you get a job or something. The street doesn't have to be your only option anymore.' Ron took a sidelong glance at Draco. He was staring stoically out of the car window. Whatever was going on in his head, Ron would leave him to it.

The stopped at a pharmacy where they got Draco's prescription filled, before going to get his hair cut and then into a men's clothing store.

'I'm not going to be your "Pretty Woman,"' muttered Draco sullenly when Ron gave him some clothes to try on.

'My what?'

'Nothing.' He accepted the proffered articles and tried them on. Some minutes later the left the store with several shopping bags.

'I have a lot of vacation time saved. I could take some time off,' said Ron, trying to initiate conversation.

'I don't need a nurse-maid.'

'You need something Draco.'

They drove home in silence after that.

The next day Ron had to go to work and was forced to leave Draco to his own devices. Ron could admit to himself that he was slight nervous. He was afraid he'd come home and find his flat empty and Draco gone. He did not really think Draco that dishonourable, but after living on the streets, who knew what he was capable of. His fears were unfounded however, when he returned home he met Draco asleep on the couch with the TV on. He looked so fragile and innocent; Ron could hardly believe he was the same person he went to school with. In a way though, he was not. His experiences had changed him and Ron found himself longing to get to know him.

Over the next few days, Draco's face began to fill out, or at least he lost his scary skeletal look. He and Ron got on marginally better, that is, they spoke more. One evening, while they were having dinner, Ron finally asked Draco a question that had been bothering him for a while.

'Why did you stop prostituting yourself?'

'Why are you helping me?'

'What?'

'Why. Are. You. Helping. Me?'

'Because you need it.'

'I know I need it! But why are you doing it? Do you think it's easy for me to accept your charity? Every minute that you help me I'm reminded of what I lost.'

'Why though? Because the sides have changed? I'm not throwing my wealth in your face Draco.'

'But I would! I would and have thrown my money shamelessly in your face.'

'Is that what you want? For me to turn you out, laughing?'

'It would make more sense to me.'

'You don't have to take my help if you scorn it so.'

'You know very well that I have no other options…'

Their arrangement was an odd one. Draco still slept in Ron's bedroom and depended on him. Though he was getting better, he was still frail. Ron went to work during the day and tried to make conversation during the evening. And then at night, he tried to sort out his feelings. Another week passed and Draco began to look more like his old self; his cough had subsided and his frame filled out, but he still seemed ill.

Ron took his vacation even though Draco didn't need so much looking after now, he felt he felt Draco needed a change from the banality of his flat. His also felt some fresh air would be good for him.

The first place Ron took Draco was to a visiting circus, which Draco enjoyed immensely. They had picnics, went to the cinema and the race track. Sometimes they even laughed together. Ron could tell something was changing between them, but he was not sure what and if Draco had noticed. They had… moments. Once, Draco surprised him by making dinner.

'I had no idea you could cook,' said Ron, impressed.

'I picked it up from watching my House-Elves. I thought since I was better I should do something to earn my keep.' Draco glanced at Ron, 'don't look at me like that,' he said quietly, his eyes downcast.

Ron reached out and lifted Draco's chin until their eyes were level. 'Thank you. The food smells brilliant.' The Blond nodded, colouring slightly.

'Shall we?'

After dinner, while playing a game of chess, (the regular kind, Ron tried to keep his displays of magic to the minimum for Draco's sake. Take that Hermione, he could be sensitive.) Ron asked his question again.

'Why did you stop prostituting?'

'Why are you helping me?'

'I already told you, because you need it.'

'Simple as that? Even after everything I put you through in school?'

'Yes. So, why did you stop?'

'What makes you think I did?'

'I found you sick and starving, if you were selling yourself you would at least have some money.'

'I was robbed. A pimp wanted me to work for him and I refused. He beat me up and stole my money, left me for dead. I don't know how long I was unconscious. I didn't have money for rent, so I slept outside for a few nights. That's when the cough started and I began losing weight. I couldn't get any money for food because no one wanted me. Who would?'

'I'd want you,' replied Ron softly.

'You don't want me… ' said Draco, his voice barely a whisper. 'I'm broken beyond fixing.'

With a surge of courage Ron did not know he possessed, he leaned forward and kissed Draco lightly. I was a mere brush of their lips really, nothing to shout about, but it sent shockwaves through Ron. Draco looked at him curiously.

'Why?'

'Why what?'

'Why did you kiss me?'

'I don't know.' It was an honest answer.

There was none of the professing of feelings that usually follows a first kiss, no declarations or anything of the sort. Merely a moment of awkwardness, and then Draco said,

'Okay.'

And so they carried on as usual, except now they kissed, occasionally, and always very chastely. They did not discuss it, but both liked that they did. It was a silent showing of affection. Neither was ready to admit to more.

About a week after Ron went on some errands and returned sick. He was coughing and sneezing, his body ached and he felt all around miserable. He desperately wanted to sleep in his own comfortable bed, but he did not want to put Draco out. Draco however seemed to sense his weariness and longing for his own plush bed.

'You look like Hippogriff piss.'

'That means a lot coming from the man that perfected the gaunt look.'

'Ha ha. Seriously Ron, I'm not blind. You're ill and you're tired. Go in your bed and get some rest. I can sleep on the couch, I don't mind.'

'It's okay, I'm fine with the couch.'

'Don't be stupid, it won't kill me to sleep on the couch.'

'Really I don't mind.'

'Don't lie to my face Weasley. Look, if you're so intent on playing the gentleman let's make a compromise. We can share.'

'Share?' Ron repeated, and was delighted to see Draco's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink.

'Yes, share. Your bed is massive, there's room enough for two.'

'Okay, fine.'

'Fine.'

They changed quietly, both ignoring the fact that Draco was turning it at them same time with Ron despite his feeling better and it only being six o'clock. They got into bed without talking, staying on opposite sides. Slowly though, they inched closer together, and then, without warning, Draco snuggled into Ron's side. Ron drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

He woke early the next morning to find Draco staring at him. 'Good morning,' said Ron smiling tentatively. Instead of returning the salutation, Draco leaned forward slowly, looking at Ron all the while before kissing him deeply and lingeringly. Their previous kisses were nothing compared to this, never lasting more than a moment. This was a pleasant change, one Ron had been hoping for. He kissed him back encouragingly, opening his mouth and allowing Draco's tongue to caress his. When Draco pulled back Ron looked at him questioningly.

'Were you just waiting to get me into bed?' he joked.

'Something like that,' answered Draco sheepishly. 'Do you still want me?'

'Yes.'

Draco stripped off his shirt, then removed Ron's clothing. He ran his hands down Ron's firm torso. When his hands reached the edge of his pants he stopped suddenly. 'Tell me you want me.'

'I want you.'

He slipped a hand inside Ron's pants, making his breath hitch. Draco wrapped a sturdy hand around him and started stroking. Stars appeared in Ron's eyes, no lover had ever made him feel so good. He could feel his orgasm building, faster and harder than he ever experienced. It was pure bliss, the feel of Draco, rubbing, stroking, cupping and fingering him.

'Oh… Draco, fuck!' he came with hard, spurting his seed all over Draco's hands. Draco leaned forward and kissed him wetly, before leaning down and licking his come.

'You taste fan-fucking-tastic,' whispered Draco into Ron's ear, before licking him there. Ron shuddered, still recovering from the intensity of his release.

'Let me return the favour.'

'No need,' said Draco. 'I wanted that to be just for you.'

Ron looked down and saw that Draco was hard through his pyjama bottoms.

'But you didn't come.'

'I know, it's okay.'

'I feel selfish.'

'Don't, I wanted to do this, I wanted you to feel the pleasure I could give you. I wanted to do something special for you.'

'I don't want you doing things like that because you think you owe me something,' said Ron. The minute the words left his mouth he regretted them. Draco's face turned red and his eyes narrowed.

'Do you think I did that because I felt the need to repay you? I may have been selling myself, but I'm no whore!' he got out of the bed angrily 'Fuck you Ron!'

'Draco I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that.'

'What did you mean it like then? How was I supposed to take that? Tell me _Ronald. _Enlighten the poor little whore you rescued from the darkness.'

Just then the phone rang, and Ron reached for it automatically. 'Hullo?'

'Hello and good morning, this is Dr. Seepersaad calling for Mr Bingley.'

'Hold on,' he covered the mouthpiece. 'It's for you, the doctor.'

Draco snatched the receiver from him, 'Hello?' he said sharply. 'Yes… what?' His face drained completely of colour. 'Y-yes… I have…. yes. My what count is dangerously low? Oh. Okay – of course. That's fine… Monday. Thank you for calling. Yes… all right. Goodbye.' He gave the phone back to Ron and exhaled shakily before sinking onto the bed.

'What is it? What did she say?'

Draco looked at him blankly and answered as though speaking to himself. 'She said I have AIDS, that the tuberculosis was probably related to it. She wants me to come in Monday so she can start me on a regimen of medications… I have AIDS.' He stared with unseeing eyes in no particular direction.

'You have what?' asked Ron disbelievingly, staring at the semen drying on his sheets.

Ron's voice snapped him out of his stupor. 'AIDS Weasley,' said Draco in a hard voice. Ron recoiled slightly at his vehemence. Draco noticed his withdrawal and his eyes blazed. 'Do I repulse you?' He started dressing, forcing Ron to find his voice.

'What are you doing, are you leaving?'

'Yes I'm leaving, I wouldn't want to trouble you with my dying and all.'

'I'm sorry! Just give me a minute to adjust.'

'Give you a minute! That's rich, considering I'm the one with the disease. Don't look so relieved, at least wait until I'm about the door before rejoicing that all I gave you was a hand job!'

'Don't go. I want you to stay, please. I'm really sorry – '

But Draco continued on as if Ron had not spoken. 'This is _your_ fault! If you hadn't brought me here – ' his breathing became erratic ' – I would have died on the street. At least I was resigned…' his voice broke. 'I expected it, but you, you gave me hope, _damn you!_' He started sobbing and then broke down totally, crumpling onto the floor.

'Draco,' said Ron, reaching out to him.

'Don't fucking _touch me!_ You bastard… don't touch me…' his words became unintelligible amongst his cries. Ron sank to the floor next to him and held him close, whispering soothing words into his ear.

'Everything will be okay, I'll take care of you,' said Ron once Draco's tears had partially subsided. Inside he was reeling. AIDS? He felt as though he had escaped a brush with death, but at the same time he was incredibly frightened. Terrified actually, because he thought he was falling for Draco.

'You should have left me where I was.'

'I couldn't.'

'Why? You hated me; I was on the bad side… I supported Voldemort.'

'I don't know. I saw you and I just couldn't.'

'Thank you… for not leaving me.'

'You're welcome.'

'Ron.'

'Yes love?'

'I'm going to die.'

Ron's throat felt constricted. 'Yes you are.'

'I don't want to die… I think I did before, when I was huddled on the cold pavement… coughing up blood and begging for food… I was okay with it then. It was better than my life, but now… I don't want to die.'

'I don't want you to die either.'

'Do I disgust you?'

'No, you never could,' replied Ron, honestly.

'Do you still want me,' asked Draco into Ron's chest.

'Very much,' Ron was almost surprised to find that it was true. He still wanted Draco as much as ever.

'You won't leave me?' He snuggled up even closer to Ron, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

'No I will not. Not ever.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.' And he knew that no matter how hard things got, he would always be at Draco's side. It was amazing what could happen in the space of a few weeks.

'When did I get this needy? I wasn't always like this you know.'

'It's okay to be needy sometimes I should think,' said Ron in a choked voice.

Draco looked up at Ron. 'Are you crying?'

'No.' _Sniff._

'It's okay to cry, look, here I go again,' said Draco with a watery smile. They chuckled slightly before sobering up.

'You are going to die.'

'I am going to die.'

Then they both cried.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

x X x X x X x X x

'So what do we do now?'

'We go see Hermione.'

'No Ron. I absolutely will not.'

'She's a Healer. She can help.'

'The doctor is going to give me medication.'

'Please Draco; our medicine might be more advanced.'

Draco looked at Ron's imploring face and felt his resolve crack. He did not want to go, but he was willing to bend his pride for Ron. Anything that might mean more time for them together was worth looking into.

'Fine, I'll go.'

Later that night, when Draco was sleeping soundly against Ron's bare chest, Ron was wide awake, covered in a cold sweat and thinking hard. His very structured world had been turned irrevocably upside down. How was it that in the short space of three weeks he had come to care so deeply for Draco Malfoy? Don't feelings like that usually take at least three months? Or so he had thought. He had almost accepted the fact that he might never love anyone in that way and here he was, wide awake and scared out of his mind because of what was happening, or rather what was going to happen. Draco was going to die. Yes, everyone dies eventually, but Draco was going to die a whole lot sooner, and he was going to have to watch him go. A part of him wanted to run away; just toss the sleeping form off his shoulder and bolt. But when he looked down at him, he knew he could not.

The next day he rang Hermione.

'Ronald Weasley, I haven't heard from you in weeks!' said Hermione the minute she recognised his voice. 'And I've been calling and owling!'

'I'm really sorry – '

'Harry said you've been avoiding him as well.'

'I've been occupied. Actually, that's why I called. I need a favour.'

'Oh, that's real nice,' she said sarcastically. 'You call me only when you need something, how lovely.'

'I'm really, really sorry Hermione. I know I've been out of touch, but just listen to me a minute will you? I met someone.'

'What! You've finally met someone? Oh thank God! We've all been so worried!'

Ron swallowed his disgruntlement at the thought of everyone being worried because he had not settled down like apparently everyone else in the known world.

'He has AIDS Hermione and I need you to – '

'_WHAT!_'

'He has AIDS and I want you to help him if possible.'

'My God Ron…'

'Will you help him?' asked Ron, ignoring her adverse reaction.

'Of course, but Ron, have you been infected?'

'No I haven't and yes, I'm still going to get tested just to be sure.'

'Don't be upset Ron. I'm just concerned and unless you've been hiding him for a long time this is a new relationship, is it?'

'Yes it is… but I think I love him.'

'You think? Don't risk your life for something you're not sure about.'

'Hermione, don't. I'm not sixteen anymore; I know you mean well, but you're completely out of line.'

'I'm sorry Ron… as a Healer I know it's entirely possible to be in a functioning relationship with someone that's infected, but as your friend I don't want you to be involved in any unnecessary risk.'

'I totally understand that, but you need to understand that I'm more than old enough to make my own decisions, and live with the consequences. There is one more thing though, you know him: Draco Malfoy.'

At this point Ron actually had to move the handset away from his ear. Hermione was screeching at full throttle. When she subsided he took a chance and brought the phone back to his ear.

'If you've quite finished?'

'You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?'

'No, but I might have if you lowered to the decibel.'

'Ron,' she began in a tightly controlled voice, 'do you think it's smart to be involved with Draco Malfoy of all people? Where did you even find him? He's been missing for years.'

'I found him starving on the street.'

'Well if that isn't the very picture! Put him back and walk away!'

'_Hermione!_'

'I am serious Ron. Draco Malfoy is bad news – '

'"Bad news?"'

'The terminology is not important!'

'No, what's important is that I haven't hung up on you yet.'

'I appreciate that you haven't, but Ron, let's be serious for a minute. He could be taking advantage of you, and I'm sure Harry would agree with me, as for you mother – '

'Don't you dare tell Harry, my mum or anyone else! I'll talk to them when I'm good and ready.'

'Fine, I won't say anything, but please, if you could just listen to reason!'

'I think I've listened to enough actually. Obviously you're not going to help him so I have nothing more to say. Goodbye Hermione.'

'Ron, wait! I'll help him, of course I will. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into.'

x X x X x

'Malfoy.'

'Granger.'

Ron rolled his eyes and gave Hermione a paper bag. 'These are the prescriptions the Muggle doctor gave him.'

She rummaged through the bag. 'Our treatments aren't very different. We give potions, they give pills.'

'What does that mean?' asked Ron.

'It means that our treatments are very similar, we just have different ways of administering them.'

'There's no magical solution?'

'Unfortunately not; AIDS and other sexually transmitted infections are more common in the Muggle world because of the differences in protection and contraceptives. With a simple spell we can protect ourselves from most if not all infections and diseases.'

'We can go then,' said Draco.

'No, not yet. I can give you some supplementary potions. It will make your medicine more effective and boost your failing immune system. It's not a cure, but it will help.'

'Thank you Hermione.'

'You know I'd do anything for you Ron, please don't shut me out again.' Ron kissed her on the cheek.

'I won't, and I'm sorry I did. I'd do anything for you as well. That includes baby-sitting those monsters you call children.'

Hermione tapped him affectionately, and then turned to Draco. 'AIDS can be a manageable condition. You could live for many years before you even start feeling ill, but in order to do that you have to be careful. Watch what you eat, what you're exposed to and above all, don't miss even one dose of your meds.'

Draco nodded shortly, then walked out of the room. Ron was about to follow when Hermione stopped him. 'Be careful Ron, with your body and your heart.'

'I will,' he replied, hugging her. 'I better go. I promise I'll ring soon.'

'Well that was a complete waste of time,' said Draco breaking the sullen silence he'd kept up on the journey home.

'No it wasn't. She said the potions will help. It's manageable.'

'Whatever.' He turned his back on Ron, and he saw the barely perceptible shaking of Draco's shoulders.

'Don't be like that, come here.' Draco reluctantly obeyed and snuggled into Ron's offered warmth, burying his face in the crook of the red head's neck momentarily before pulling away.

'How am I supposed to be? I was living in hell before, but now this is worse.'

'It's not worse, you have me.'

'That's why it's worse… I didn't have anything to live for before and now that I do, I'm dying.'

'Shit Draco, don't talk like that.'

'It's true Ron. I would have welcomed it before, there were so many times I thought about and wanted to kill myself, but I couldn't bring myself to do it…' He let out a bitter laugh. 'What a hilariously hysterical, cosmically bad joke.'

'Draco, I know it's hard, but please, you have to try not to get despondent. I want to help you.'

'You want to help me? Make me feel like I'm not dead yet, please.'

'Whatever you want Draco… I'll do anything.'

Draco launched himself at Ron, devouring his lips. Their tongues thrust together and soon nothing was distinguishable between them, only the heat from each others bodies searing their flesh. Just as Draco was about to rip Ron's belt off, Ron stopped him.

'Are you sure this is what you want – are you sure you're ready for this?'

'Yes,' said Draco, drawing close to him again. 'I want you. I want you inside me. Please. Do you want me?'

'Yes, more than anything,' said Ron, his voice cracking. He led Draco to the bedroom they now shared and closed the door. With a flick of his wand, he cast the room into darkness, before making soft bubbles of light float around the room. It was simply put, magical. 'If we're doing this, I want to do it right.' Ron kissed Draco softly. Draco smiled into his lips and sighed.

'Lift your arms,' Draco commanded. Ron immediately complied. He raised his arms and allowed Draco to slip his jumper over his head. His eyes roamed Ron's pale, freckled skin that glowed in the soft lighting, before touching and tasting it. Draco kissed his ear, his neck, his nipples, before kissing his lips again.

Draco shed his clothing then lay down on the bed, staring up at Ron. His movements were assured, but his eyes held a bit of fright, as if he was afraid Ron might hurt him.

'I won't.'

'You won't what?' asked Draco, looking scared, as though he thought Ron might no longer want him.

'I won't hurt you, ever.'

Draco's eyes searched Ron's face. 'Do you mean that?'

'Yes. I will never hurt you Draco. I promise.' He lay down slowly and kissed Draco tenderly. He worked his way down to his neck, and while fondling Draco, whispered a spell to protect him from catching Draco's disease. He trailed his lips down Draco's lithe form.

'Ron?'

'Yes?' answered Ron in a muffled voice. His mouth was pressed against Draco's stomach and his tongue exploring his navel.

'Before I started… that is… before I – er worked the streets, I was a virgin.'

Ron raised his head and glanced up at Draco's red face. He did not know if the blush was caused by excitement or embarrassment. He crawled back up the bed until he lay face to face with Draco. 'You've never had sex with someone because you wanted to?'

'No. I know what to do to make other people feel really good, but I've never had anyone do things to me to make me feel good. The most I had before was the odd grope with an equally inexperienced boy.'

'I know we were all young when the war started, but you never…?'

Draco snorted, 'I wanted to wait for someone special if you can believe it… fat lot of good that did me.'

Ron raised himself up so he could stare directly in Draco's eyes. 'I am going to make this special for you.' And true to his word he did.

He worshipped Draco's body, eliciting moans and screams of pleasure. He went down on him, rimmed him and prepared him slowly and tantalisingly before finally entering him. He positioned Draco on his back so they could look at each other. It was not the most exciting of positions, but for his real first time, Ron wanted him to be able to look into his eyes and see the genuine feeling there. He did not want Draco to feel like a piece of meat, not even worth being looked at during sex. He did not want it to be sex, what he wanted, as much as he disliked the term, was to make love to Draco.

'Want to hear a secret?' asked Draco in a stage whisper. He and Ron were tangled together under the covers, cuddling, and kissing whenever they felt like it.

'Sure.'

'When we were in school I thought you were the sexiest bloke around. I hated you, but you were fucking sexy, especially when you got mad and your ears turned red.'

Ron laughed softly. 'I think if you'd told me that before I would have cuffed you.'

'Do I look like an idiot? Wait – don't answer that.'

Ron kissed him, ending their playful banter. Then the mood changed.

'Don't, Ron.'

'Don't what?'

'Don't ruin the mood with reality, please. Let's just enjoy what we've just shared.'

'What a poncey thing to say,' said Ron laughing.

Draco smiled. 'What can I say? You bring out the sap and queer in me.'


End file.
